Five Stages For a Genius
by Sammie050301
Summary: ON HIATUS. "This was the beginning of the five stages of grief. Everyone goes through them. Geniuses like Dr. Reid are no exception. He would eventually intellectualize the situation until he couldn't anymore." After his mother's sudden suicide, he learns to cope. Reid whump/angst. [Will be a six chapter story] Reid is very OOC
1. Prologue- The Waiting Room

**A/N: I know it seems like I'm throwing stories at you guys, but I'm trying to expand my mind on certain topics. I'm trying to complete at least one multi-chapter story.**

 **This idea came into a dream of mine last night. I couldn't NOT write bout it. I apologize if Reid is OOC, but this is how I feel that he'd react to his mother's death.**

 **Disclaimer: I Don't Own Criminal Minds**

 **Fanfiction Trailer:** **watch?v=QJHeeGxYFiw**

* * *

The clock was taunting him by moving the handle slower than usual.

 _Tick...tock...tick...tock._

"You didn't have to come," Reid murmured to his team quietly, with his left leg bouncing in anxiety. He kept looking toward the hospital door, praying for his mother to just walk through them and tell him that it was just some sick joke she had been planning for a long time. He was tired, he was scared, and when these two things tied together it wasn't going to be good. From three to four in the morning is considered the "devil's hour", and that's when Reid got the phone call that his mother slit her wrists. A call at three in the morning was never to bring good news.

 _Tick...tock...tick...tock._

"Don't even say that, Reid," Hotch said, his face softened, "The team is here for you always, you know that." Reid nodded absentmindly, keeping his eyes on the door with intense focus. His focus was soon broken since he flinched when two slender arms tried to hug his neck soothingly. He turned around to see JJ, who was trying to hug him as a token of sympathy. He knew JJ would get like this, she was a mom, after all.

He almost snorted. _Not my mom._ He didn't hug her back, nor did he push her away, he just went back to staring at the door, remaining frozen in place. He glanced quickly at the clock, it was _laughing_ at him now, taunting him with the handle moving even slower than ever.

 _Tick...tock...tick...tock._

 _This was not happening._

 _She has to be okay._

Maybe he should've visited, or perhaps not. He couldn't stand to see his mother deteriorate any further had she shown some suicide ideation at the Sanitarium. Then again, he would've noticed and put a stop to it. He ran his fingers in his hair roughly in distress.

 _How the hell did she even cut herself?_

 _Why didn't anyone **say** anything?_

 _Did the doctors and nurses secretly know?_

 _And did they try changing her medication? I certainly wasn't told anything._

"Kid," Reid's head snapped to his right, where the voice came from. Only one person called him Kid, as of right now, he really wish he was one right now. Morgan continued, "We just gotta hope for the best. Diana was a strong woman." _Was._ _What a disgusting word._

" _Is,"_ Reid spat at him, "Don't talk about her like she's _dead,_ Morgan. She'll be _fine."_ Morgan was taken aback by his hostility until he realized that he shouldn't be surprised. Reid's mother was the only family he had. He traced back to the conversation he once had with her about his father:

 _"If it were up to him, you'd have a house full of brothers and sisters."_

 _"So **you** didn't want kids?" Reid asked, though it sounded more like a statement._

 _"Why mess with perfection?" Diana Reid questioned back, with a wink._

He sighed. He didn't consider himself to be perfection, he _really_ didn't want to go through this alone. _Stop._ He thought, _She's fine, this is just a dream. She wouldn't leave you, she's not **dad.**_

"Family of Diana Reid." His thoughts were interrupted by not his mother walking through the door, but a doctor and his clear voice echoing in the waiting room. Once Reid stood up, all of his colleagues stood up. Everything was in slow motion entirely, he felt like he was dragging his feet across the floor to the doctor.

With every slow step, his foot after the other with reluctance and dread, the clock would move, mocking his every move.

 _Tick._ Step. _Tock. Step. Tick. Step. Tock. Step._

He reached the doctor. The clock made the same noise after every sentence he said to Reid.

 _Tick..._

"She lost a large amount of blood once she cut herself."

 _Tock..._

"We tried to stop the bleeding as much as we could."

 _Tick..._

 _...Time stands still._

The final, dreadful sentence was here, that no one wanted to hear:

"...We couldn't repair the damage. I'm so sorry. She just passed–"

... _Stop_.

He waited to hear the tock of the clock, but it wasn't coming. Everything froze in place, he couldn't hear anything, and he wanted to unsee this dream that he was sure he was in. No, it was a nightmare. Yes, he was sure it was a nightmare. Knowing his past, desth wasn't very kind to him. This would've been awful if it were real, except that it was.

 _Silence._

Reid swallowed hard, and turned around to see the pityful looks on his teammates faces. Why are they sad? This is, no doubt, a dream! He burst out laughing at the sudden news, as if what the doctor said had fallen on deaf ears.

"Death is a shadow," he said, giggling madly. Everyone else around him had the urge to take a step back, that was the most unnatural laugh, no—noise, that had ever escaped from Reid's lips.

"Reid," Hotch said softly, "I know this is very difficult for you, but we're all here for you." Reid just laughed again, now Hotch was even more worried.

"Guys! She didn't die! She wouldn't leave me! She's here, this is just a sick dream!" He expected the doctor to shout out, 'Gotcha!' and show him his mother, completely unharmed.

"Reid, she's gone," Hotch tried to press, it was so damn hard. Garcia tried to hug him, hoping he'd snap out of it, but he only pushed her away, his eyes flashing madly,

" _She's not dead! Do you hear me?!"_ He shouted, actually _shouted._ Hotch used every strength that he had to not react to Reid losing his temper suddenly.

"Kid, she died. I'm sorry," Morgan tried to intervene quietly, not being able to hide the evident shock on his face. Reid turned on him too.

"Shut up! I don't believe you! Diana Reid is alive and well!" Morgan shook his head, wishing that were the case.

"No, Reid. She isn't. I'm sorry, man, she was a great woman—"

" _Don't say that word!"_ Reid hissed angrily, "' _Was', what an ugly word! Stop talking about her like she's dead!"_ He didn't care that the whole hospital heard him scream, he didn't care if he sounded so unlike himself. Out of character? Oh well. He didn't want to hear Morgan's _lies_ anymore. He stormed out of the hospital in a contorted rage, not once looking back.

Hotch was astounded. The young man that was in front of him appeared to be delusional, but he truly wasn't, he knew. To anyone else, Reid would've been classified as delusional. But to Hotch, and the other profilers he worked with, they knew how his mind worked.

This was the beginning of the five stages of grief. Everyone goes through them. Geniuses like Dr. Reid are no exception. He would eventually intellectualize the situation until he couldn't anymore.

* * *

 **Reviews are greatly appreciated.**


	2. Denial

**FSFAG Trailer:** **watch?v=QJHeeGxYFiw**

 **Disclaimer: I don't own Criminal Minds**

"Reid!" Morgan shouted after the tall lanky figure rushed out. The latter didn't stop running. The more muscular man was about to run after him until Hotch held him back.

"Let him go," he ordered, "He needs time to think."

" _Time to think?_ " Snapped Morgan, "What if he hurts himself? What if he does something stupid?" Prentiss bit her lip nervously at what Morgan was implying. _Like mother, like son?_ She shivered at the bitter thought. She wondered what the others were thinking, too. She faced Hotch, asking him the same thing not with her words, but with her worried eyes. He remained stoic and serious on the outside, but kept his voice soothing.

"He won't," Hotch reassured, although right after he said that, he wasn't too sure. He wouldn't, would he? He looked to one other person for reassurance, the only person he would in a time like this. Rossi looked back at Hotch and seemed unsure himself. This only made the unit chief grow more concerned for the young man–no, he's a boy. Although a birth certificate would say otherwise, in the eyes of his as well as the team's–he was still much like a child. Yes, Reid hated the treatment; but it would never change. He'd been forced to grow up way too soon.

"Hotch, we took the jet here! Where could he possibly go? And he can't be that far..." Morgan said, trying to make sense of this. Morgan was right, Hotch remembered right after he got the call about his mother, that he had called him and asked him if he could _borrow the jet_. Yes, the kid literally asked to borrow it. At first, Hotch was baffled was going to say no, it was against the policy of the BAU. That is, until Reid told him about his mother.

Hotch agreed, but the entire team went, so it looked like it was case. The team didn't mind, in fact, _Garcia_ even insisted on going.

But right now, Hotch was adamant that the youngest needed his space.

"Time is what he needs," he said, this time more firmly. One side of Hotch was thinking that Reid wasn't okay, and that he needed someone to be with him right now. In a way, Morgan was suggesting Reid shouldn't be alone. And yes, he could be right. The last thing anyone wanted was to see their youngest putting himself in danger. However, another side of Hotch felt that Reid was, in fact, an adult. His professional side was saying to stay out of it, that it was none of his business. It was a family matter, after all. But Hotch had empathy for him, he has a family and he had lost Haley.

 _Stop. It's none of your business._ Right now he considered it unprofessional to meddle in his subordinate's life.

"Morgan," Hotch said, gaining his attention, "We can't push him."

Unfortunately, the professional one was the side that won, for now.

* * *

Reid didn't know where he was going. To be truthful, he didn't care. He had to get away from the hospital, away from the doctor, away from his colleagues. Diana Reid wasn't dead, in his mind. He'd prove to them that she's just fine.

Reid is still afraid of the dark. He remembered when the sun was just coming up when he entered the hospital, although a bit dark, light was beginning to shine. This, in his opinion, a way of someone telling him that everything was okay. If it wasn't, then the sun wouldn't be shining brightly like it is now.

This was all a trick. Why would his friends say such horrible lies? They weren't even funny! He refused to be the victim, he refused to be mocked or bullied. Maybe that's why he snapped at Morgan. He'd gotten bullied enough by his tormentors of his past, that make him remember the horrific things done to him like it were yesterday. Reid didn't need Morgan to remind him of that. He was mocking him, trying to set him off, like he _always_ tried to. Well it definitely worked this time. At what cost, though? For Reid to scream his head off? Did people really take pleasure of his misery? Did everyone just hate him? Were people just saying his mother was dead just to scare him?

Reid didn't know. A genius with an IQ of 187 means nothing in this. It only proved how drastically low his emotional and people skills were. He could crack the most complex codes of his century, but couldn't tell if someone wanted him to stop rambling about the square root of pi. He was considered socially inept by others, the proof was staring at him right in the face, he was awful at taking social cues subtly. And now due to his emotional state, he was rationally blind. He was hasty, and he didn't like it. He needs to rationalize better to prove of his mother still living. Besides, in his opinion, emotions made him feel dumber. Emotions got in the way.

Reid now laughed at the absurdity of the situation. His mother was fine! He'd send her a letter about his wacky nightmare but then again, he didn't want to worry her. He didn't want to make her more paranoid than she already was. That would actually be awkward to write in a letter, 'Hey mom, I dreamed you were dead'. That certainly wouldn't fly. She'd most likely say how the FBI and government finally hacked into his brain somehow, trying to give him a message. What to do? How could he prove his mother is alive? Suddenly, an idea reached his brain. If he wasn't so rationally blind, he could've thought of this sooner.

He'll just go to the Sanitarium to visit her.

* * *

"Hotch are we just going to sit here!?" Morgan snapped, growing impatient by the minute. They were still waiting in the hospital, out of hope that Reid would be back by now. Growing agitated, the black profiler started drumming his fingers on his left knee. Next to him was JJ, who always looked a little agitated. She checked her watch and made note of the time.

"Hotch, it's nine in the morning," she said tiredly, "Reid hasn't returned for over an hour _. Someone_ should look for him." JJ wasn't annoyed, no one was. Mostly, they were concerned about Reid who wouldn't leave for this long unless he was planning to go somewhere.

"You know, I'm aware that Reid just lost his mother, which is probably why he's acting this way," Prentiss started off, who was feeling very uneasy, "–but I'm worried about his...state of mind. If I weren't a profiler, I'd say Reid has gone insane."

"Prentiss–"

"Did you hear the way he _laughed?_ " Prentiss emphasized, trying to get everyone to hear her out, "That was so...un-Reid like."

"He wants to forget this happened," Rossi told her, as well as the rest of the team, "He's getting rid of the possibility that she's gone. He knows that she's dead, he just doesn't want to believe it."

"Reid's intellect is a shield that protects him from his emotions," Hotch adds in, feeling dèjá vu, "Right now, that shield is under repair." "He needs love," Garcia said, close to sobbing at the thought of her Boy Genius being in pain, "He needs support."

"All of you know how Reid is," Hotch said calmly, "He'll push us away."

"Not if I can help it!" Garcia said with her arms crossed in front of her chest, looking very determined. Morgan seemed to agree with her.

"Pushing is away will only make us more worried."

"Yes, but the more we bother him about it, the more he'll push us away," Hotch argued back.

"Do you see how long he's been gone, Aaron?" Rossi said, taking advantage of the fact that he's one of the few that calls him by his first name. Maybe it'd coax him to be less stubborn. "An hour."

"He could be coming back." Rossi shook his head.

"He has a _plan_ ," he corrected, "He's very determined to show us that Diana is alive. I know _exactly_ where he's headed." Hotch nodded knowingly where Rossi was getting at, because like him, he realized it long ago. Morgan, JJ, Prentiss, and Garcia looked very annoyed at this realization.

"Did you ever think about telling us?" Morgan snapped bitterly. "Where is he?!"

The discussion was interrupted when Hotch's phone began to ring. He recognized the number and picked it up immediately, "I'm assuming Dr. Reid is with you?" He didn't bother with introductions.

"Yes..." a nurse said on the other end of the line, "You're listed as his medical next-of-kin, right?" Hotch's eyes widened, "Is he hurt?"

"Oh no, he's not...we alerted him that his mother attempted suicide. But he keeps asking us to see her." Hotch sighed and looked at his team, their pained faces were asking what was going on. Nonetheless, he answered back,

"She succeeded in her attempt."

"Oh...Well that explain how hysterical he's getting. I don't want to say this, but he's starting to scare other patients around him. We're thinking of forcibly–"

"I'm on my way," Hotch interrupted, not wanting to hear the rest of the sentence that he knew she was going to say, and hung up, "We're going to Bennington Sanitarium, I'll explain on the way."

* * *

Reid swallowed hard. He wasn't crazy! He had the right to see his mother! Sure, it was an unexpected visit, but the hospital always let him! And now they're telling him his mother attempted suicide!? Is _everyone_ in on this horrible joke!? Now the Sanitarium turned everyone crazy, even their nurses and doctors!

"Dr. Reid, I have told you many times by now, that your mother attempted suicide. And from a call that we've recieved, she succeeded. I'm awfully sorry," the nurse said, sounding sympathetic. Reid wasn't having it, he laughed in her face.

"Ha! That's what you _want_ me to think!" He said, sounding completely deranged, "I'm going to walk into my mother's room, and she'll be reading one of her novels. You'll see!"

"I'm afraid I can't let you do that Dr. Reid," the nurse said firmly. "Why don't you take a small rest–" Reid's smile disappeared as he yelled at the top of his lungs.

"No! I'm _not_ crazy! I'm not like her! I can't be in a place like this!" His eyes were animalistic, ready to attack. Two other nurses were ready to grab him until Hotch and the team burst through the door.

"Don't touch him!" Hotch ordered, showing his FBI badge. Reid suddenly went over to Hotch, _hugging him,_ and laughed manically. Hotch was confused, but returned the hug only for a second. He got a good look at Reid's face when he let go. His eyes wide, manic, and _crazed._ His smile reached those wild eyes of his,

"Hotch!" He cheered. "You saved me from them! Do you know what they keep telling me? That my mom is _dead!"_ He burst out laughing at the silly thought. The team looked very worried and distraught at Reid's behavior. Hotch's face remained stoic, but his heart was breaking with pity. He remained silent as the youngest of the team rambled, "Yeah, it's funny that you guys were saying that earlier! So now you can tell them that my mom is alive!" Hotch remained silent, shaking his head. Reid's mood, he could tell, was going down.

"Hotch, tell them! My mom is _alive._ " He repeated with emphasis. His smile was now completely gone, looking down at the floor. His eyebrows were knitted together in confusion, "My mom isn't _dead_." His voice broke slightly. Hotch realized he was trying to convince himself more than the people around him.

"Kid..." Morgan said softly, shaking his head at his disbelief.

"Reid..." Hotch began softly, "She's not here." That was the final straw. Reid's head snapped up angrily at Hotch's eye level.

"Tell them she's _alive,_ Hotch," Reid spat, sounding so inhuman.

"Reid–"

" _TELL THEM SHE'S ALIVE!"_ Reid roared, with all his might. Hotch, to everyone on the team's surprise, visibly winced. Now, everyone was shaken up. Reid lowered his voice, which was beginning to break, no tears slid down on his face yet.

"T-Tell th-them. _Tell them—_ that she is—tell them..." He paused, as if his brain was trying to solve a complex puzzle. Suddenly, all of his rationality went straight out of the window. He didn't care about anything anymore. He was lucky he was a fast runner. He bolted past Hotch at the speed of light, rushing into his mother's room. The guards tried to rush after him but Hotch said for them to stay. He and his team followed him. What they saw, none of them could prepare for.

Books were scattered all over the place, destroyed. The pages being ripped everywhere, pictures were stomped on, the glass shattered all over the floor. A table was turned over, knocking everything else off the floor. Things were thrown harshly against the wall, and part of that wall had a freshly punched hole in it. Hotch knew where to look next, and saw Reid's knuckles that were the shade of blue and purple, it was certainly bruised.

Reid had lost it, to put it mildly. He looked around the room in frustration, there was nothing left to destroy. His hand was running through his unkempt hair, and he felt the sudden urge to try to pull it as hard as he could.

Hotch noticed one thing that wasn't destroyed. It was a letter, a _note_. A note that was addressed to: _Spencer._ It looked like it was already read, and it struck a nerve in Spencer.

" _WHY ISN'T SHE HERE!"_ He shouted loudly, sobs aching through his body. Hotch rushed over to the distraught profiler, putting a hand on his shoulder.

"I don't know, Reid..." He used in a voice that's usually for Jack, "I don't know..." Reid shrugged Hotch's hand off, getting more and more fed up,

" _SHE'S SUPPOSED TO READ TO ME!_ " Reid cried out brokenly, his grief finally hitting him hard, " _THAT'S WHAT WE ALWAYS DID! AND SHE'S NOT HERE! SHE'S DEAD!"_ He pushed Hotch away and sat in a corner of his mother's room. He wrapped himself up in a tight ball and sobbed, every shuddering breath breaking each of the team's hearts. Rossi and Morgan took every muscle in their bodies not to cry with him. Garcia was openly crying, as was Prentiss and JJ. Hotch just stood there, speechless.

"I-I want my m-mommy..." Reid sounded so much like a child, that it scared Hotch. He suddenly didn't care about being professional. He had to do something. Surely with caution, the older man slowly engulfed his subordinate in a tight embrace, hushing him softly whenever he broke out into a cry.

"I know, Reid, I know..." Hotch said soothingly, running one hand through his hair. A pin drop and the sound of Reid's sniffles and heavy breathing could be heard. Occassionally it would be a small sob, but Hotch would hush him so Reid could listen to the white noise to focus on and get back to being calm.

"She's actually gone...she actually left me."

"Reid, I'm so sorry. Shhh..."

" _Why can't she be here with me!?"_

"Shhh–"

"She didn't have to die!" he shouted, his face growing angry again.

"She didn't, I know...I know..." Hotch kept saying the words, 'I know', a lot during this, hoping to calm the younger profiler down. He knew it worked for Jack whenever he got upset. Yes, to him, Reid was still a boy. Hotch was waiting for him to break, and he made it abundantly clear that he was going to be the one to pick him back up. Reid may have realized that his mother was no longer here, but the grieving process was far from over.


	3. Anger

FSFAG Trailer: **watch?v=QJHeeGxYFiw**

 **Disclaimer: I don't own Criminal Minds**

 **I really hope you guys check out my new one-shot, _The BAU Gets Stoned._ Tell me what you think, if maybe that should no longer be a one shot.**

The sun was beaming on a Saturday in a cemetery. This made Reid snort at the irony. It was quiet, calm, and peaceful. He wished it was raining for once, since it was a sad day. Perhaps it was a happy day for someone else, but it surely wasn't for him. One man's happy day is another's worst nightmare. He watched as Morgan, Hotch, and Rossi helped carry his mother's black casket, with a beautiful white rose that had looked like it had sprouted a thousand leaves the reflected the sun. Reid couldn't even bring himself to carry his mother's casket, it hurt too much to think that his mother's body was in there.

It hurt to see all the pitying looks thrown his way. Phrases and sentences related to _"I'm sorry for your loss"_ and _"My condolences"_ were said throughout the day, followed by a pat on the back, a small hug, or a handshake. He _hated_ handshakes. Organizing this wasn't hard at all, he made sure that everything was perfect in order to celebrate his late mother's life. He knew the flowers she liked. He actually yelled at someone for getting them wrong, but he knew how his mother envisioned her funeral.

The hardest part was the eulogy.

Reid spent _days_ on how he should write this eulogy. He'd always been good with words on paper, his mind was a powerful asset. But now, he needed a word limit. He needed to prioritize what was important in his speech and what wasn't. The problem was, everything to him was important. He treasured every little thing she said or did. When she talked, he'd absorb that information as if he were a sponge. Then again, he did have an eidetic memory.

So he knew he had to take his time. Reid started off slow, "Agatha Christie once said, 'A mother's love for her child is like nothing else in the world. It knows no law, no pity, it dates all things and crushes down remorselessly all that stands in its path.'" Reid let out a small smile, "I'd say that this is an understatement when it came to Diana Reid's love for her child."

"My name is Spencer Reid, and I'm Diana Reid's only son," he said, looking around the cemetery to see the support surrounding him. He swallowed hard and continued, "Um..." He pauses, giving a nervous chuckle, "This is one of the hardest things I've ever had to do in my life." And it was true. He could write and read silently faster than anyone he knew, but when it comes to delivering what was written, his nerves would get the best of them, "Mom was one of those people, that you could just tell anything. Despite her illness, she was a bright radiant person in my life that could never be replaced. She holds a special place in my heart." He paused, looking down, feeling the tears welling up in his eyes. His voice started to break,

"I-I remember having...rough days at school, and-and there were days when my m-mom and I would read together, and I forgot about all the bad things in those moments we shared together. She–" He stopped talking completely, his words replaced by the sound of him trying to hold back his tears. He failed miserably, as a single sob broke out. He couldn't do this.

"I'm–I'm sorry," he says, walking back to where he was standing with tears streaming down his face. He said something to Morgan, who was looking at him with understanding and compassion. Reid pointed to where he was giving his speech prior, with a pleading look. Morgan nodded and gave Reid a long hug before he made his way to read the speech.

"Spencer asked me to read his speech for his mother, which I'm honored to do so," Morgan said to everyone earnestly. He started to read out what Reid had written out, in place of him, "—she was everything to me. Mom, although I lived two thousand, five hundred and twenty six miles away from you, we've always exchanged letters everyday, inquiring about how we're doing. I treasured all the letters you've sent me. Our distance doesn't keep us apart, our familial love extends to feel as if you were right next to me. I believe there's a term called being a 'Momma's Boy', which I have no shame admitting that I was." Morgan paused, getting emotional himself. That last sentence he could relate to.

"Although we'd send letters, that doesn't overlook the fact that I cherished my visits to you whenever I could. You'd always say each time that I'm too skinny, and you'd still look after me and ask if I was okay. If I said I did, and I wasn't, you'd see right through it. When I asked you how you knew, you said, 'A mother knows'. And we'd talk together about it, knowing how to make everything better." Morgan tried not to get upset more than he was when he saw Reid crying into JJ's shoulder, hiding his face entirely while she calmly stroked his hair.

"Mom, I love you, and your face and voice will always be the center of my heart, forever." Morgan finished.

By then, Reid had walked out.

* * *

Only three days, was the team's collective thought. _Three days._

Everyone wanted to scream at Reid for returning to work so soon.

He had seen the looks on everyone's faces when he entered the BAU. He didn't want their pity. he didn't want to hear the protests of him taking more days off from Hotch, or the smothering from Garcia, or the 'brotherly support' from Morgan-it would involve some stupid joke, he knew-Hell, he didn't want anyone to talk about it. He didn't want their apologies, or their so-called support. It was overbearing, in his opinion, and he didn't need to be mollycoddled. "Youngest of the FBI", now he detested the title more than ever. He was late when he entered into their room whenever they had a case, and he felt everyone's eyes on him. It made him want to vomit, " _What?_ " He snaps.

"Your hair...it's messy," Garcia pointed out, almost startled by the way Reid acted. That seemed the make the youngest profiler even more agitated, "My hair has alwaysbeen messy, and you're getting on my case about it _now?"_

"Alright," Garcia replied meekly, " _Alright_." Once Reid settled down into a chair, Morgan made his way over to the boy genius. He clasped his hand on his bony shoulder, making him jump up at the sudden force.

"Kid, I just wanted to say if you need anything-"

Reid already cut him off, "Don't. Touch. Me." He separated each word, to know he was being serious. Now it was Morgan's turn to be startled, when he looked into Reid's eyes, they looked wild, unpredictable, and had not-so-hidden fury within them.

"We've been notified about the Brookview stabbings," Hotch started off, he then looks at JJ who took it from there, "Bill Struthers," a picture of a man in his late thirties to early forties appears. "Truck driver. A bystander pointed out seeing him making deliveries to where these women were killed. We've been asked to interview him."

"Wheels up in thirty."

The drive to Brookview from Quantico didn't take long at all, give or take thirty minutes. The team set up in a room an officer gave them, discussing details about the case.

"We've brought him in," the officer said, "He's in the interrogation room." The team looked around to see who was going to approach him, and they heard an unlikely voice spoke up,

"I'll do it." Everyone turned and faced Reid, who still had a mad look in his eyes, fierce and determined. It was the opposite of how he normally looked.

"Reid," Hotch said, sounding doubtful. "Are you sure?–"

"Yes, I got it," Reid interrupted sounding snappish, he wasn't going to discuss it any further. He stood up abruptly from his chair and stalked into the interrogation room while slamming the door shut behind him. The team looked very worried at his overwhelming confidence to talk to him. Hotch got up from his seat to follow, as well as Rossi and Morgan.

Reid's eyes were flaring at Bill. He threw a bunch of crime scene photos at him of the various girls. He pressed his arms in the table, cowering over him. "So, you like stabbing prostitutes, huh?"

"I don't know what you're talking about," the man across from him said gruffly.

"Oh, no, I think you do," Reid spat, then he grinned, anger seeping through, "Did you get _off_ on stabbing those women? You know what, I wouldn't be surprised if you had your way with them too. Tell me, _Bill_ , did you rape them before or _after_ you killed them."

"But I didn't do _anything_!" the man exclaims, looking horrifed. The team looked on, terrified with the fact that Reid was capable of putting a man in such fear in a manner of seconds. But Reid was now laughing in the man's face, he leans closer, their noses almost touching.

"You know what?" He hissed in the suspects ear, "I should paint your nails and put makeup on you, you little _bitch._ " Reid spat with venom. He proceeded to mock him, "What, are you gonna _cry?_ Like you made those women cry? Good, I wanna see you cry. It'll give me immense pleasure, like how you felt when you stabbed the women!"

No one had ever heard Reid swear before, with such hate. Reid had never talked about taking joy in one's pain. Sure, maybe the suspect did those things, but Reid's behavior was concerning. Hotch would've expected it from Morgan, or possibly Rossi is enraged to a bad point. But Reid? Never.

Hotch stepped in. "Reid—"

"I-I-I don't understand—" the man rambled.

 _SLAM!_

"You _murdered_ innocent women!" Reid roared, pounding his fist on the table to get a jump scare from Bill. He pushed all the crime scene photos all over the floor and pushed the table with intense adrenaline and tried to wrap his hands around Bill's neck.

"Reid!" Hotch shouted, rushing over along with Morgan and Rossi to pry Reid off the suspect.

"Reid—"

" _GET OFF!_ " Reid roared at his team before getting back to trying to hurt Bill. But, they persisted.

"C'mon, man, _calm down!_ " Morgan tried shouting over him, glad that him along with Rossi and Hotch were able to overpower him. Another officer came by to get Bill out of the room, looking scared and frightened.

" _YOU'RE LETTING HIM GET AWAY!"_ Reid shouted in frustration, screaming like he had never screamed before. " _MORE PEOPLE WILL DIE! GET OFF ME!"_ Morgan wrapped his arms around Reid's waist, while the latter continued to flail around, trying to escape. "Reid! Calm down!"

" _NO, LET ME GO MORGAN! I HATE YOU! DO YOU HEAR ME?! I FUCKING HATE YOU!"_

"Reid—"

" _THE WOMEN ARE DEAD! SHE'S DEAD, SHE'S DEAD, SHE'S DEAD! AND IT'S ALL MY FAULT!"_ Reid proclaimed at maximum volume, which is beginning to extend.

"It's not your fault, kid," Morgan said softly in his ear, "It's not your fault." Hotch and Rossi had long let go and let Morgan console him. They watched at Reid dropping to the floor in anguish and terror, bursting into another episode of sobs and cries. Morgan continued to hold him, brushing his hair out of his face to reveal the tears that had been longing to fall out for a while.

"I knew it was too soon," Hotch said quietly to Rossi, who nodded in agreement.

"She's not here..." Reid said brokenly.

Hotch winced, he was now getting more concerned with his subordinate's behavior. Reckless, in denial, and now frustration. His mind worked like a textbook, he knew damn well what was coming up next, but how was Reid going to express it?


End file.
